


you > everyone in the universe

by snsk



Series: 30 min request thing [5]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: 2011? era, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-10
Updated: 2016-11-10
Packaged: 2018-08-30 05:24:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8520154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snsk/pseuds/snsk
Summary: “Don’t look at me, Dan, I’m disgusting,” Phil said, but he reached his arm up to hook over Dan’s neck anyway, in a gesture Dan had catalogued, time and time again, as kiss me. Kiss me.Dan kissed him. He was so warm.(for the anon who requested: Can you write a fic where Phil overworks himself with his and Dan's bills bc he's the older one and he believes its his responsibility and Phil passes out at the table so Dan has to reassure him?)





	

“Hey,” Dan said quietly. Phil didn’t stir.

Phil’s blue hoodie sleeve, cheek resting on it, was wet; he was drooling, something he only did when he was dead tired. Dan filed this away as another instance of it, as he had started to, a bit obsessively, since they’d moved in together. The way Phil stole cereal right out of the box, how he sang in the shower when he was happy. A detailed catalogue for future reference, to keep forever and ever, amen.

Phil’s cheek was on his arm was on a- sheaf of paper, apparently, and Dan peered at it before he started to wake Phil up for bed. The water bill, the gas, electricity. Phil had been making little annotations in a little notebook: _12 Feb,_ and _40 pounds,_ and _content insurance_ , circled with a bunch of question marks beside it. Dan’s heart twisted, warm.

They’d decided on what Dan would contribute per month, a bit of his student allowance and another bit of the money his parents sent, and Dan had said, _I can get a job,_ and Phil had said, quite firmly: _no_.

 _You focus on your studies_ , he’d said, and Dan didn’t quite know how to tell him that was kind of maybe the last thing he wanted to do, these days. The look on Phil’s face, bright and proud of him: he hadn’t quite figured out how to destroy that faith yet.

So he was keeping on at it, even if it was destroying his soul a little more each day.

But if they were struggling- Dan had to tell him, and overrule him, and get a job, and actually _contribute_. He reached out to shake Phil’s shoulder, slightly, and tell him to go to bed. But his hand stilled halfway; Phil looked absurdly peaceful, here on the hard surface of their kitchen table, neck at an awkward angle. Dan leaned forward to kiss him instead. His lips landed halfway between his ear and his temple, gentle about it, but still Phil stirred. He smiled, a soft curve of mouth, before his eyes opened.

"Yergh,” he said, blurrily; he wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand, noticed the hoodie sleeve and winced.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” Dan said. “Back from class, hello.”

“Don’t look at me, Dan, I’m disgusting,” Phil said, but he reached his arm up to hook over Dan’s neck anyway, in a gesture Dan had catalogued, time and time again, as _kiss me_. Kiss me.

Dan kissed him. He was so warm.

“Mmm,” Phil said, pressing his lips to Dan’s cheek, the corner of his mouth, before leaning away and stretching. “Cold dim sum in the microwave, like I said. How was class?”

“Eh,” Dan said, which was how he responded to all questions of the sort lately. “You going to sleep?”

“Eh,” Phil said, looking at the table. “Might sort this out first.”

“Phil,” Dan said. He drew out a chair.

Phil looked over. One eye was opened wider than the other, the one that hadn’t been resting on his arm. The other was red and squinty. “Yeah, love?”

Dan filed that away under the folder named _absurdly fond of pet names when I’ve come home after a long day._ He wanted to kiss the little furrow between Phil’s brows away, lead him to bed and squeeze some Eyemo onto his lower lid. But this first.

“Are we… okay,” he said, carefully. “With money, because Phil- no, Phil,” because Phil was shaking his head already, opening his mouth to protest, “if we, we’re- I have to help, you can’t just, you have to tell me, alright? I can get a job at Sainsbury’s, I can’t just sit on my arse and-”

“-you’re not sitting on your arse,” Phil said, with certainty. “You’re studying, aren’t you? You could be like, my sugar daddy in five years, tops.”

Dan didn’t quite know how to translate the thoughts that had started to form in his head, indubitable and creeping and despairing, into words, the ones that started something like: _I don’t think I want to- I don’t think I can-_

He focused instead on Phil, who was never despairing, but was indubitable on the opposite end of the spectrum, the good kind, the best kind. Phil who was saying, “Dan, don’t worry, we’re not struggling, oh my god. And my parents are fine with helping out, if we ever get into those dire straits, so that’s okay.”

“Oh,” Dan said. “Still, Phil, I should know. I should start learning about the- finances.” He made a doubtful face at how unfamiliar the term tasted in his mouth. Sometimes he was reminded of how _young_ he was, how young and inexperienced and-

“I suppose you should,” Phil said. He reached out and took Dan’s hand, started playing with his fingers. He cracked a knuckle.

“Ow,” Dan protested, more for show than anything.

“I guess I just liked- being the older one,” Phil said, rueful about it. “Taking care of you. It-”

“You do take care of me,” Dan said blankly. Phil did. Phil woke up and drew the blankets over Dan at night; Phil hypochondriacally rushed him to the clinic when he showed signs of strep; Phil made sure Dan ate. Dan might index intensively, but Phil did it like he already had it pre-memorised, how Dan kicked the blankets off in sleep and how he tended to skip lunch.

Dan hadn’t ever had anyone who made him their Person before.

“Yeah.” Phil smiled at him. There was a patch of dried saliva on his chin, all dry and crusted. Dan loved him. He rubbed his thumb over Dan’s knuckles. “I’m just trying to save a bit,” he said. “You know, for a better place, soon, someday, who knows. Maybe. If we decide to. In any case it’s always good to-”

Dan catalogued all of this: the way Phil rambled slightly, undercurrent of nerves when he talked about a future together, how he plowed on anyway and held onto Dan’s hand. It was times like this Dan kind of knew, whatever thoughts harboured like stormclouds on the peripherals of his mind as he sat through a Torts A lecture, that Phil wouldn’t let go. This, Dan stored somewhere safe; this, he would never lose, never and ever and _ever_ amen.

 

 

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[read on tumblr here](http://snsknene.tumblr.com/post/152998045928/ok-i-just-wanted-to-make-sure-can-you-write-a-fic)


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